• bethinkful 55w

    The notes of yesterday
    Hang in the present
    Dropping, lilting, spiraling,
    Out to the setting sun
    Into the vast beyond...
    Yet somehow, they reach
    The moon, and yes, even
    The sun himself's rising
    And He and She,
    Past and future,
    Are joined together
    In the soft chords,
    The echoes within, and without,
    Our "selves"
    Image courtesy of Nick Bondarev (Pexels)

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